Radiohead band members, from left, Ed O'Brien, Jonny Greenwood, Colin Greenwood, Thom Yorke and Phil Selway. Radiohead band members, from left, Ed O'Brien, Jonny Greenwood, Colin Greenwood, Thom Yorke and Phil Selway. (J. Scott Applewhite/Associated Press)

In the age of the iPod and Last FM, it’s easier than ever for music listeners to define themselves by artists and genres. The time when a single genre dominated and characterized an era (like rock ’n’ roll in the 1950s) has long past. Online access to music has enabled people to freely explore subcultures and follow only their favourites.

Radiohead’s output is a powerful reminder that unlike so many things in our consumer society, pop music needn’t be disposable.

For a long time, there has been one exception to this trend, an act that all music listeners can agree on: the Beatles. During their short career (1963-70), the band released 13 studio albums and pushed the boundaries of rock, pop and folk. For example, Eleanor Rigby (1966) was one of the first pop tunes to feature strings; songs like Tomorrow Never Knows (1966) and Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds (1967) helped create psychedelic music. Meanwhile, a track called Carnival of Light suggests the Beatles were making electronica long before it was a genre. The greatest testament to the Beatles’ wide appeal is the fact that artists from every conceivable genre — from country singer Johnny Cash to classical cellist Yo-Yo Ma to jazz vocalist Ella Fitzgerald — have covered the Fab Four’s music.

Until quite recently, the Beatles seemed to be the only act to cut across such boundaries. But a contemporary band has demonstrated a similarly wide appeal: Radiohead.

The Beatles, from top left: Ringo Starr, George Harrison, John Lennon and Paul McCartney pose with the album Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. The Beatles, from top left: Ringo Starr, George Harrison, John Lennon and Paul McCartney pose with the album Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. (John Pratt/Keystone/Getty Images)

Radiohead came to the world’s attention back in 1993, the year their self-loathing slacker anthem Creep became an unexpected hit. Since then, the English quintet has redefined the concept album, with releases like the future-phobic OK Computer (1997) and technology-obsessed Kid A (2000). Countless musicians have covered the band (including Prince, Anthrax, Alanis Morissette and John Mayer) and many others (Bjork, DJ Shadow, Nine Inch Nails and Scott Walker) have publicly declared their love for them. Radiohead’s catalogue has become a gold mine for tribute albums: there’s Radiodread (reggae and dub covers), Exit Music: Songs with Radio Heads (electronica and hip hop), Rodeohead (bluegrass) and Skeet Spirit (crunk). In 2007, the Scottish Ballet debuted Ride the Beast, a production set exclusively to the band’s songs.

On its website, the Guardian newspaper in London recently posted a series of jazz interpretations of Nude, a song from Radiohead’s last studio album, In Rainbows (2007). The purpose of the experiment was to find out how jazz, known for its improvisational nature, would translate a song by a modern rock band. Most of the Nude covers — done by a variety of contemporary performers — bear no resemblance to the original.

Arguably the most famous interpretations are to be found in the series O’Riley Plays Radiohead. Christopher O’Riley, a classical pianist and a host on National Public Radio in the U.S., has released two albums of Radiohead songs performed on piano, and regularly includes their works in his live repertoire.

“This is some of the most challenging music being written anywhere,” O’Riley told the Philadelphia Inquirer in 2004. “There was the same quality of silence in the room [during the performance of] the Schubert and on [Radiohead song] Exit Music (for a Film). That, to me, said something.”

Jazz pianist Robert Glasper recorded a medley of Radiohead’s Everything in Its Right Place and Herbie Hancock’s Maiden Voyage for his 2007 album In My Element. “A lot of jazz musicians love Radiohead; they’re very jazz-friendly,” Glasper told the Guardian in 2007. “They have great chord changes and weird, screwed-up time signatures, but they also write beautiful and compelling melodies. They have a way of sneaking in complexity without you realizing it.”

Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke during a performance in New York City. Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke during a performance in New York City. (Mark Mainz/Getty Images)

There is more to Radiohead than sonic experimentation, however. In the way that the Beatles captured the antiwar, free love and drug-filled spirit of their time, Radiohead tackle the globalization, paranoia and runaway technology of ours. Their songs are largely tales of alienation, whether due to capitalism (Dollars and Cents), politics (2+2=5) or relationships (Fake Plastic Trees). As with the Beatles, people will be able to listen to Radiohead decades from now and get a pulse of our zeitgeist. What’s more, both bands have subverted the music industry for their own gains. The Beatles stopped touring in 1966 to focus on studio recording; Radiohead left their record label, EMI, in 2004 and released In Rainbows online, inviting fans to pay what they wanted to for it.

No less a figure than U2’s Bono has sanctified the comparison between Radiohead and the Beatles. “I want to hear Radiohead, extraordinary band that they are, on MTV. I want them setting fire to the imaginations of 16-, 15-, 14-year-old kids,” he said in an interview with the Chicago Tribune in 2004. “I was 14 when John Lennon set fire to my imagination. I don’t blame [Radiohead for not wanting to be on MTV,] but I think, ‘What would my life be like without the Beatles?’”

Radiohead have been accused of being difficult and arty — like late-period Beatles, their albums are not immediately accessible. But Radiohead’s output is a powerful reminder that unlike so many things in our consumer society, pop music needn’t be disposable.

Vicky Tam is a writer based in Toronto.